Here is the first English excerpt of my book.
I have posted it on Wattpad and I was told it was quite readable, not too much translation mistakes ☺
For twelve years, the power has been usurped at the Realm of Harcilor. Cyr, an erudite, and his adopted son, Kaaz, have formed a secret school. Indeed, in this world, some people were born endowed with magical abilities : the Silarens. However, it is not that easy to detect your own powers. They will soon be joined by a mysterious young woman who will provide them with valuable information. When Litar - the most powerful being of the realm - goes away for two months, they finally foresee the opportunity to act. Can they win their freedom back? Will they make the right choices?
Tome I : The Realm of Harcilor
CHAPTER 1 : The Tent
Relan, year 12
In that early spring, thick gray clouds covered the sky, letting fine frosty raindrops fall down. The wide alleys were empty. Two Guardians passed along the rampart, their boots sinking into the mud.
They had to wear a mark above the eyebrows : a long and thin dark blue line crossing their forehead. Thereby, it was simple to distinguish them from the people. They also wore long dark capes. These ones were striding along the stony wall extensively heightened since the new king Relan had usurped the power.
The realm of Harcilor was located at the north of the continent whilst the south was only constituted of desert plains. The eastern part of this land was separated by the Karilii sea and bound at the south by a chain of lively active burning mountains. The harcilans lived isolated as there were not many of them.
At Hierum, the capital, people principally resided in cabins and tents protected by the defensive wall. However, humidity and cold were piercing outside as much as inside habitations.
At several measures from the castle could be found an alley where the biggest tents had subsisted, more or less intact. They belonged to the Guardians of the late king Geldir. All of them roughly showed the same colours : brown, auburn and charcoal grey, whose partition walls were strengthened with wood. The new Guardians, for their part, had settled at the place of the castle gardens to get closer to Relan.
In front of one of these tents, a fawn-coloured one, was standing a young man. Kaaz was twenty-four years old but seemed older with his tired features, pale complexion and purplish lips. He was tall, had long black hair reaching the bottom of his back and clear blue eyes that seemed nearly white by this weather. Sadness and anger displayed upon his face. He was wearing a long dark cape as well.
He was part of the Silarens, the humans who possessed magical powers. The ones who didn’t have the birth advantage to dispose of any of them were called the Iesilarens.
These unfamiliar words came from the first spoken language on the mainland, the Tystena: « silar » meant « power », and the prefix « ie » indicated the negation. The Silarens could feel each other, perceive the magical energy from one another.
Kaaz was watching around the tent. Nobody should discover what was happening, the Guardians first. If they were coming to know or suspect the inner activities all the persons present would be sentenced to death.
From time to time, the Guardians went away from the castle to investigate the neighbourhood, which disquieted Kaaz. Sometimes, they had already passed in front of the tent and gotten in to search it.
Careful, he had been on the lookout for days when no one was inside, in order to deceive them and leave them unsatisfied. They had somewhat lost interest in this case as there were no suspicious movements.
Today, the Guardians had decided to pass again in the way. Kaaz felt a little nervous but hid it so well nowadays. He noticed the two men turning in the path from afar. He removed his glove and put his right hand behind his back while facing them.
He used his Dissimulation power : an invisible magical energy spreading itself around the canvas shelter like a shield. This force could prevent the Silarens from feeling the magic hidden inside the unearthly shell, willing to hide the host and the guests of the tent. He kept this thin layer of energy as the two men passed by and observed him.
Kaaz quickly took a bow to them, and in return they made a discreet head gesture knowing him rather well now. At least, that’s what they thought.
They continued on their way, seeing and feeling nothing that could put them on alert. It was one of the two powers inherited from his mother, a very rare and envied capacity.
Kaaz was still maintaining his shield for a moment, the safest was to wait for the Guardians to be far enough. To define at which distance the magic energy could be felt or not by someone else was a difficult task. It all depended of the intensity of one’s own powers and others’. Yet, these two Guardians weren’t that powerful. Moreover, one only possessed Mobility, and the other Inflammation, widely spread powers.
The two men far away, Kaaz stopped emiting his Dissimulation. Apparently, no one else was expected. The guests knew if they didn’t see him at the entrance they had to go backwards. He lifted the first curtain of the tent, then the second one - thicker and heavier - to get inside.
Were standing there a dozen of children and young adults sitting on the ground on woven fabrics, as for some parents. The whistling of the wind and the abrupt fall of the rain ran all over the roof of the canvas. In spite of these uncomfortable conditions the invited were facing vacant table and stool. They were clearly waiting for someone.
Cil, a copper-coloured skin and dark-haired little boy, approached Kaaz.
‘When I’ll be older, I want to be as powerful as you !’ he claimed.
Kaaz smiled, which was rather unusual from him. With his right hand, he tousled the boy’s hair.
'I hope you will.’
The man they were all waiting for got out of the bottom room and put his manuscripts on the table. Cil took back his place among the other children.
This man’s name was Cyr Belgran. He was in his fifties and was of ebony complexion. White hair and beard wrapped his face and the rust colour of his eyes brought even more sweetness to his friendly appearance. He was standing in front of his pupils, unrolling a map world drawn by his care and hung it up.
From memory, he had transcribed what he had read in various books before they had all been burnt by the new Chief of the Guardians.
'Good morning everyone. Today, we will study our world and kingdom geographies. Going back to the last lesson, it is important to know where we come from, to know our environment. You should make use of what surrounds you, you are only visiting but Nature has been here for a very long time and will linger. No matter the past, present or future kings and queens. No matter the people. Nature created us and amiable beings to live with, and gave us the right to live. Each day, it grants us what to eat, what to build for shelter, what to dress and what to take care of ourselves.’
The master threw a handful of powder, a mixture of dried star jelly and panther caps. Then, he recited a spell in an ancient language :
The powder held in suspension. Appeared images: opening primroses of all colours, white, yellow, purple and mulberry; a peaceable creek winding between banks covered of first snow; and finally, a sunrise gleaming over the vast plains of east. Children and parents were filled with wonder.
With the help of a stick, Cyr stirred up this magic screen. He was Iesilaren and practiced material magic. A less mighty magic yet it had other advantages.
'It grants us its help and its beauties. It is ours to behave as we should towards its splendour and its creatures, including ourselves, humans. We had a king who respected us, as you know, he was unseated some years ago…’
In the room, everyone was listening with attention. Cyr surely was one of the wisest men in the capital, in Harcilor even.
'Henceforth, we are bound by another king and his son, Chief of the Guardians. In addition to that, we have to confront a disloyal Guard. All of them being thirsting after wealth and subjection. We should never forget what our kingdom used to be for generations: a fair and free land.’
The children’s and parents’ eyes were shining, both with remembrance of this past secretly kept and with admiration for this strong-willed man.
[To be continued]
The story has been published in French, I managed to stay very close in the translation. So if you like French or want to learn it you can find the free excerpts here:
And finally, you can buy the book/ebook here: http://www.amazon.fr/POWERFUL-dHarcilor-S-N-Lemoing/dp/1517314097/ref=la_B00YTBZMKY_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1451577968&sr=1-1
Trailer with epic music and English subtitles : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L0A1XUHXzow
If you can tell me what to correct this would be very helpful and kind of you ♥
Thanks for reading!